The Secrets That Bind Us
by AllyMcGee
Summary: Secrets get people killed. When John McGee shows up at a crime scene and attacks his own son the team is left to deal with the aftermath. Nothing is as it seems and as the team digs further into the McGee family history they find a secret that will rip one agents life apart and put the whole team in danger.
1. Chapter 1

Tim sighed heavily as he took another photo of the dead Petty Officer, William Grant. The man had been stabbed multiple times and his throat was cut so deep it nearly severed his spinal cord. It was the third one in two weeks and everyone was starting to worry that they may have a serial killer on their hands. Tim took one final picture before putting his camera away and letting Jimmy and Ducky get to their preliminary work up.

"All yours Ducky," Tim said, tucking the camera safely back into its carrying case.

"Thank you my boy," Ducky responded as he and Jimmy crouched down next to the body. Tim shivered slightly as an icy breeze cut through his thin windbreaker. Fall had arrived and the beauty of Rock Creek Park was breathtaking. The bright hues of orange, red and yellow leaves danced wildly on the breeze, creating a wave of swirling colors.

"Hey McDreamy," Tony said, pulling Tim from his thoughts. "Are you just going to stand there all day staring at the trees, or are you going to actually do some work?"

Tim shot Tony an annoyed look, "You are one to talk Tony. The only work you have done this morning is stand there and bark orders."

Tony puffed his chest out proudly and smiled, "Well I am the Boss today. That is part of my job description."

"For one day Tony. Gibbs left you in charge for one day. Don't let it go to your head."

"Too late for that," Ziva said as she approached the two men and thrust a bag of evidence into Tony's chest.

"Do I sense a little hostility?" Tony asked, rubbing the spot on his chest where Ziva had made contact.

Ziva cut her eyes at Tony, but spoke to Tim, "Did you find any evidence on the body McGee?"

Tim shook his head, "Nothing useful. Grant was stabbed over a dozen times in the abdomen and then had his throat slit. Whoever did this obviously had a lot of rage, because his throat was cut all the way down to the spinal cord."

"That sounds familiar," Tony said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Grant is the third victim this month," Ziva added. "I do not think that it is coincidence that all three were killed in a similar fashion."

"Well," Tim added. "You know what Gibbs says about coincidences." Tim turned to face Ducky when he heard him trudging through the thick layer of leaves, nearly slipping on the slick forest floor. He was out of breath by the time that he reached the team.

"Are you okay Duck?" Tony asked.

"Yes, yes," Ducky said, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief, "I am afraid that this blasted head cold has left me a little off balance. Nothing that a spot of tea can't fix."

"Do we have a time of death?" Tony asked, eyeing his unsteady coroner with concern.

Ducky adjusted his glasses on his nose and tucked his handkerchief back into his pocket, "Yes. I would estimate that Mr. Grant died about six hours ago. The cause of death appears to be exsanguination from a severed carotid artery. Poor man bleed out in less than a minute. Once I get him back to the lab I can determine the cause of death with more accuracy."

Tony looked down the hill to the body and then back to Ducky, who was still winded from his initial trip, "Why don't you go sit down for a bit Ducky. We will help Jimmy with the body."

"I assure you Anthony, I am fine," Ducky said, with a wave of his hand.

"You are sick Ducky," Ziva added. "Let us help you."

Ducky eyed his team and then looked down at Jimmy, who was patiently waiting for help in collecting the body. It was a long trip back down the hill and he had been feeling dizzy all morning. With a resigned sigh he nodded his head, "Very well, but do be careful."

Tony patted Ducky on the back as the man walked toward the van. He smiled as he turned back to face Ziva and Tim, "One of you go help Palmer."

"What?" Tim asked incredulously. "Why don't you go help him?"

Tony pointed to himself, "Boss for the day...remember?"

Tim opened his mouth to protest, but knew it would do no good, so he shut it once again. He turned to face Ziva, but she was already gone, heading toward the sedan, looking back only once to offer Tim a sly, impish grin. Tim rolled his eyes and started making his way down hill. He was going to have to stand up to those two one day. He was starting to grow tired of being stuck with all the grunt work.

"Is Dr. Mallard okay?" Jimmy asked as Tim reached the bottom of the hill.

"He's fine," Tim explained. "That head cold is leaving him a little...unbalanced."

Jimmy frowned, "I told him he needs to go to the doctor, but he is being stubborn as usual."

Tim chuckled, "Doctor's do make the worst patients."

"That they do," Jimmy smiled. "I will talk to him again when we get back to headquarters. I'm guessing you are here to help me with the body?"

Tim cast an irritable glance back up the hill. Tony and Ziva were nowhere to be seen. They probably left without him and he was going to have to ride in the back of the coroners van...again. "Of course."

Jimmy gave him a look of pity before setting about getting Grant into the body bag. He knew it wasn't the best time to talk to Tim about what his counterparts did to him...what they do to him on a frequent basis. They don't respect Tim, which Jimmy couldn't wrap his head around. Tim is one of the best men that he knew. He was a great person and didn't deserve to be treated the way he was. They appeared to have very little faith in their co-worker, even though he had proved himself to them time and time again.

"Do you hear that?" Tim asked, getting to his feet and pulling his gun from his holster. Jimmy was jerked from his train of thought and upon seeing Tim's gun, his heart began hammering in his chest and he found that he couldn't move. He held his breath and listened intently for whatever Tim had heard. It was a struggle to hear anything over the sound of his pounding heart, but after a few moments he heard the sound of leaves crunching. Someone was coming toward them. What if it was the killer? Sweat beaded up on Jimmy's forehead as he nervously watched the intense stare of Tim as he waited for the intruder to come into view.

Tim's brow furrowed and he lowered his gun as the source of the footfalls appeared in his line of vision. "Dad?"

Jimmy jerked around to see John McGee standing just feet away from his stunned son. The elder McGee was pale and winded. His clothes were disheveled and soaked in blood. He had a wild look in his eyes that chilled Jimmy to the bone and made his hair stand on end.

"Dad are you okay?" Tim asked, holstering his gun and rushing toward his obviously distraught father. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

John McGee looked at his son with such sadness it took Jimmy's breath away. "I'm so sorry Tim," John's voice cracked.

"Dad what are you talking about?" Tim asked, reaching for his father, who looked near collapse. "What did you do?"

John's bottom lip trembled as he spoke, "Please forgive me son. If I...If I don't do this they will."

"Do what?" Tim asked. Confusion and fear colored Tim's words as he tried to process what was happening. He took a step closer to his father, "Dad, please talk to me. If you don't do what?"

"This," John whispered as he pulled a hunting knife from the waist of his pants and plunged it into Tim's belly. "I'm so sorry Tim. Please forgive me."

Tim gasped as the blade penetrated his flesh. He stared in shock at his father. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, he couldn't do anything but look into the eyes of the man that just ran him through. John rested his forehead against Tim's and spoke softly to his son, "It will be okay Tim. This is better...I promise."

John pulled the dagger from Tim's belly and the young agent stumbled away from his father as blood spilled out from the wound and ran down his leg. Tim wanted to ask his father why...why had he just stabbed him, but when he opened his mouth only blood came out. Tim couldn't feel his legs anymore and there was nothing he could do to stop himself from collapsing to the ground. Tim stared at the sun as it filtered through the canopy above him. All thoughts of what just happened disappeared as he took in the glorious sight above him. Fall was such a beautiful season, he thought to himself as he watched the gently sway of the leaves in the breeze. He could hear the sound of muffled shouting, but it seemed so far away. The familiar pop of gun fire echoed in the back of his mind and the world around him started to grow fuzzy as darkness started to creep into the edges of his vision.

Jimmy sat there in horror as he watched John McGee pull the knife from his son's gut. Tim stared at his father as he stumbled backwards and collapsed to the ground. 'No,' Jimmy thought to himself...this couldn't be happening. This...it isn't right. John sobbed loudly as he stood there watching his child struggle to breathe. He appeared close to collapse himself, but he managed to keep himself upright. He staggered toward Tim and fell to his knees next to his son's side. Blood dripped from the knife that John still clutched in his hand. Jimmy was paralyzed in fear as he watched the scene unfold. He knew he should do something, but his brain wouldn't slow down long enough for him to grasp onto a solid idea. John ran a shaky hand through his hair and exhaled deeply. "God forgive me," he said as he reached down and pulled Tim's gun from his holster.

"Stop it!" Jimmy shouted. It surprised him almost as much as it surprised John. "Put the gun down!"

John turned to face Jimmy. Tears ran down his face as he spoke, "Don't worry Mr. Palmer. This bullet isn't for my son." He then placed the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger. The explosion of gunpowder echoed through the valley and made Jimmy felt his whole body go numb as John McGee's body fell just inches from Tim's.

"You really should learn to be nicer to McGee," Ziva scolded Tony as they sat on the back bumper of the coroners van.

"You weren't exactly jumping to take his place," Tony said without looking at her. "Those with glass houses should not throw stones."

"You both should take your own advice," Ducky said, waggling a finger at the two of them. "Timothy is quite an extraordinary man. He has put up with far more than most people would. He deserves better."

Tony stared down at his coffee, which suddenly left a bitter taste in his mouth. Ducky was right. He really did need to start treating Tim more as an equal instead of his own personal lackey, "You're right Duck. I'll make it up to him. Maybe buy him some pizza after work."

Ducky narrowed his eyes at Tony, "I do believe it is going to take more than pizza to fix this problem Anthony."

Tony threw his hands up in defeat, "You're right. You're right. I'll talk to him."

Ducky nodded his head and smiled, "Good."

He was just turning to head back to the cab of the van when they heard Palmer's frantic voice echo through the valley, "Stop it! Put the gun down!"

Tony and Ziva leapt off the back of the van and ran toward where they had left Palmer and McGee. They hadn't quite reached the crest of the hill when they heard the gunshot ring out. Then they heard nothing but silence.

"Shit," Tony cursed as they made it to the top of the hill and got the first view of the valley. Jimmy was sitting next to the body of William Grant, while Tim and another man lay side by side a few feet away from him. Jimmy had his legs pulled into his chest and his arms were wrapped tightly around them. Tony half ran, half stumbled down the steep hill to his fallen teammate. He skidded to a stop next to McGee. Ziva whizzed past them to get to Palmer, who was clearly in shock.

"What in the hell?" Tony gasped when he realized that John was lying next to McGee with a bullet hole in his head. Tony could see blood pouring from the wound in McGee's belly, so he pulled off his jacket and began apply pressure to the wound. McGee's eyes were half opened and he stared blankly at the sky above him.

"McGee," Tony said, trying to get the young man's attention. "Tim I need you to look at me. Come on Tim...look at me." Tim's eyes never shifted.

"Oh Good Lord," Ducky exclaimed as he reached the bottom of the hill. "What on earth happened here?" He pushed Tony out of the way so that he could tend to McGee's wounds.

"I...I don't know." Tony stammered.

"Jimmy is in shock," Ziva said as she entered the conversation. "He does not appear to be injured but he isn't talking."

She looked down at the two men on the ground and paled, "Is that...Admiral McGee?"

Tony nodded his head and went to wipe his hand down his face, but paused when he saw the blood that covered his shaking hands. Tim's blood. "Call an ambulance," Tony ordered Ziva. "I'll call Gibbs."

"Anthony," Ducky said quietly.

Tony's spine stiffened at the raw emotion he heard in his elderly friends voice. Ziva closed her eyes and tried to fight back the tears as she saw what Tony feared to see. Tony refused to turn around and face his fallen friend, "I said call an ambulance," he ordered Ziva through gritted teeth.

"Anthony," Ducky said a little more firmly. "He's gone."

Tony spun around to face the doctor, "No. No he isn't. We can get him to the hospital and they can fix him. Hell, you are a doctor you can save him!" Anger dripped from every word that came from Tony's mouth. "I am the Boss today and I say that Timothy McGee will not die...not today!"

"Tony," Ziva said softly. She placed her hand gently on his shoulder, but he violently shrugged her off.

"I said save him Doctor Mallard!" Tony shouted. He grabbed Ducky by the wrist and forced his hands down on Tim's wound. "Do let him die," Tony seethed through gritted teeth. "Just do your job."

Ducky didn't fight Tony's actions. His lower lip trembled as he looked up at Tony's hate filled face. His voice cracked as he spoke, "His heart is no longer beating Anthony. He is gone."

Tony let go of Ducky's wrists and he fell back onto his ass as he stared at the lifeless face of Timothy McGee. Tim's blank eyes still stared up at the canopy of trees that swayed above them. Tony bit his lower lip and stifled a sob as he reached over and gently closed his friends eyes. The silence of the forest seemed overwhelming to the agents as the weight of reality crashed down upon them.


	2. Chapter 2

Gibbs walked numbly through the empty bullpen, stopping just short of McGee's desk. Tim was sitting behind his desk feverishly clicking away at the keyboard. The blue glow of the computer screen illuminated the young man's face, highlighting the crease that he always got between his eyes when he was concentrating a little too hard. Tim sensed Gibbs presence and looked away from his work to stare at his boss, "Is something wrong Gibbs?" Tim asked.

"You are still here?" Gibbs questioned. "Everybody else has already gone home."

Tim turned his attention back to the screen and began typing again, "They didn't go home Gibbs. They are still here."

Gibbs looked to Tony and Ziva's desk, but neither agent was there, "They aren't here McGee."

"They are downstairs with Ducky," Tim replied, still not looking up from his computer. "They have been down there for hours."

"And you have been up here the whole time? Why?"

Tim smiled as he cast a quick glance to his Boss, "My work isn't done Gibbs. I'm not leaving until it is."

Gibbs chuckled, "You can take a break you know. It's okay to rest."

Tim stopped typing, leaned back in his chair and put his arms behind his head, "Have you been to autopsy yet?"

"Not yet," Gibbs answered as he stared down at the floor.

"Why not?" Tim questioned. "Everyone else is there."

Gibbs looked to his junior agent and had to swallow past the lump in his throat, "This is what I want to remember. Not what I am going to see down there."

Tim quirked an eyebrow at Gibbs, "It's not like you to hide from anything Gibbs. You know you are going to have to face it...may as well get it over with."

Gibbs sat down on the edge of his desk and sighed, "You're right. I'm just not ready...not yet."

"Gibbs?" Vance's voice disrupted Gibbs thoughts . "Is everything okay?"

Gibbs watched as a smug looking Timothy McGee vanished into thin air. He scrubbed a hand down his tired face and shook his head, "No Leon...things are not okay."

"We need you down in autopsy."

"Yeah," Gibbs said. "I'm coming."

Gibbs followed quietly behind Vance as they navigated their way to the autopsy room. As Gibbs made his way down the hallway he passed by Abby's lab. Abby was curled up on her couch with her head resting in Ziva's lap. She was clinging tightly to Burt as she sobbed uncontrollably. Ziva gently rubbed Abby's back as wiped her own tears away. She looked up as Gibbs passed by, but she said nothing. She didn't have to...the look upon her face told him all he needed to know.

The double doors to autopsy whooshed open and the stench of antiseptic nearly made Gibbs gag. Ducky was sitting at his desk looking at nothing in particular. Tony was sitting on floor opposite of the desk with his eyes closed.

"Dr. Mallard," Vance said, causing Ducky to jump slightly.

"Director," Ducky greeted as he slid his glasses back onto his face. His eyes shifted over to Gibbs, but he had no words for his friend. What could he say?

"You aren't going to take a peek?" Tim asked. Gibbs turned around to face his agent who had his elbows resting on the autopsy table that held his body. He pointed down to the sheet covered body, "I'm in there," Tim whispered.

Gibbs looked from Tim to Ducky, who gently nodded his understanding. He walked over to the table and pulled the sheet back exposing Tim's pale face. Gibbs sucked in a startled breath and took a step back.

"I don't look bad for a dead guy," Tim said as he cocked his head to the side and stared down at his own lifeless body. "With a little make up, I might not even look like I'm just sleeping."

Gibbs reached out and pulled the sheet back over Tim. "How is Palmer?" He asked Ducky without looking at him.

"Mr. Palmer will be fine. He just in a bit of shock."

"What happened?" Gibbs wheeled around to face Vance. "Why is my agent dead?"

Vance crossed his arms over his chest and released a ragged breath. Tim stood next to Vance and mimicked his stance. "From what Palmer told us, John McGee showed up at the crime scene. He was disheveled and didn't seem to be manic. He was bloody, though there was no evidence that he had any injures except for the gunshot wound to the head that he later inflicted upon himself."

"What." Gibbs said. "John McGee? Tim's father?"

Vance nodded his head and continued, "Upon seeing his father in such a distressing manor Tim approached him in an attempt to help him. That is when John pulled out a hunting knife and stabbed his son once in the abdomen. He kept apologizing and said that if he didn't do it, they would and that his way was better. After Tim fell, John retrieved his son's gun and shot himself in the head. That is about all we know right now."

Gibbs shook his head, "That doesn't make any sense."

Tim circled around Vance and approached Gibbs with a coy smile, "What is your gut telling you Gibbs? Do you really think my own father killed me? You've met dear old Dad...do you think he is capable of ending my life?"

"You are preaching to the choir Jethro," Ducky said. "I can't wrap my head around it either."

Vance scrubbed his hand down his face and sighed, "I need you to gather your team Gibbs. We need to talk."

"The talk can wait," Gibbs said. "Give them a little time."

The doors to autopsy opened again and Vance's face contorted in pure rage, "I told you to wait until we were ready!" He shouted at the three men that entered.

"We have our orders and the SECNAV is getting impatient." A man whose nametag read Walter. He was wearing all white scrubs, as were his two counterparts Alan and Ricardo.

Ducky shot Vance a concerned look, "Director?"

"Will you just give us a minute?" Vance barked at Walter.

Walter crossed his arms over his chest, "Go right on ahead director."

Vance turned back to Gibbs and Ducky, "We are being pulled off this case."

"Uh-oh," Tim said. "That's not good."

"Over my dead body," Gibbs said.

"Why?" Ducky questioned.

Vance cast an irritated look toward Walter and he crew before explaining, "I just got the order from SECNAV. Apparently there has been an ongoing investigation into the McGee men. Both John and Tim are under suspicion of treason. SECNAV thinks that they were working together and that is exactly where the evidence is pointing. Gibbs they have a mountain of evidence against them both. "

Tim sat down on the table that held his body and chuckled, "I've never been called a traitor before."

"That is just ludicrous," Ducky spat angrily. "Timothy is not a traitor. I will not believe that no matter what evidence they claim to have."

"We are not getting pulled off this case," Gibbs said.

"I agree...I do not believe that McGee is a traitor, but I have no choice in the matter. My hands are tied. If you don't back down Gibbs you will be put in jail. I am sorry, but there is no way around this."

"Um, Director," Walter said, tapping his watch. "We are kind of on a deadline here."

Vance closed his eyes and fought back the urge to punch Walter square in the nose. He nodded his head and took a step back as the three men approached McGee's body. Everyone watched in silence as they zipped the body bag up and shifted it over to the gurney that had brought with them. Once he was secured to the gurney Walter began pushing his toward the door, "We will be back for Pop's as soon as we get this one loaded up."

Ducky angrily lunged toward Walter, but Vance managed to grab him before he could reach the man, "How dare you speak that way about my friend? Have you no compassion? Have you no sympathy?"

Walter cocked an eyebrow at the furious Englishman, "For a traitor? No...I can't say that I do."

Tim narrowed his eyes at Walter, "I don't like him."

With that, he turned and walked out of the room, wheeling the body of Timothy McGee behind him. Ducky was so enraged he was near hyperventilation. Gibbs, however, felt numb. He wanted to be pissed. He wanted to choke the life out of Walter, but he couldn't command his body to do the necessary actions to do any of that. He could only watch as his agent disappeared down the hall.

"I cannot believe that you would allow this to happen," Ducky exclaimed. "This isn't right Director and you know it." Ducky yanked his arm free of the Director's grip and stormed out of the autopsy room. Vance was torn... he didn't know whether to follow Ducky or to stay with Gibbs. He decided on the former and took off down the hall after his enraged coroner. The taste of bile burned at the back of Gibbs throat and he took a seat at Ducky's desk. He looked around the silent autopsy room and his eyes caught sight of Tony still sitting against the wall. Tony had not said a word throughout the entire exchange and Gibbs had quite honestly forgotten that he was even in the room. Though the senior agent's eyes were still closed, Gibbs knew that he had not been sleeping. The single tear that leaked from the corner of his eye and slid down his cheek was enough to let Gibbs know Tony was very much awake.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony gulped down the last of his whiskey and slammed the glass down onto the bar, motioning for Gary, the bartender to pour him another. Gary cocked an eyebrow at Tony, but said nothing as he filled his glass with another shot of whiskey. Tony nodded his thanks and took sip of the burning liquid before placing the glass down on the counter. The entire team had been dismissed shortly after the McGee men were removed from the autopsy room. Vance told them not to come back for the rest of the week. The Director claimed it was for their own good and that they needed time to cope and come to grips with what had happened, but Tony knew better. He knew they had been ordered out of the building because he didn't want them investigating the case. Vance should know by now that it was going to take more than banning them from the building to keep them from getting involved.

Tony pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and turned it on. He pulled up his contacts and scrolled down the list until he came across Sarah's name. This would be the seventh time he had pulled her name up on his phone, but he had yet to call her. What would he say to her? Her brother was just brutally murdered by her own father...under his watch. Tony closed the screen of his phone and placed it on the bar.

"I figured that I would find you here," Ziva said as she sat down in the stool next to Tony's and motioned for Gary to bring her whatever Tony was having.

"Where else would I go?" Tony asked as he downed the last of the whiskey in his glass and slid it over to Gary for a refill.

The team had been frequenting Gary's Bar for years and he knew them all very well. He handed Ziva her drink and then refilled Tony's before sliding it back over to him. He looked at the two agents and frowned, "You guys okay?"

"No," Tony and Ziva said in unison.

Gary's eyes shifted between the two of them, "What happened?"

Tony didn't even bother sipping on the whiskey this time and he downed it all in one gulp and slid the glass back to Gary for another refill, "McGee," he said, staring down at the polished surface of the old oak bar. "McGee is what happened."

Gary paused mid-pour. He had always been fond of Agent McGee, "Did he get hurt? Is he okay?"

"He's dead," Tony said flatly as he reached over and took the glass from Gary. "Anymore questions Gary?"

"N...no," Gary said, "I'm sorry I...I just."

"Walk away Gary," Tony warned. "Leave the bottle and leave me the hell alone."

Gary nodded and made a hasty retreat to the back. Ziva took a sip of her whiskey and eyed Tony over the rim of her glass. She was worried about him. Death was a part of the job, but finding out that your partner is accused of treason...well that is a whole different story. Of course she didn't believe that Tim could betray his own country, or betray his friends for that matter, but there had to be a reason that John did what he did. There is something there that they are missing. A father doesn't just wake up one day and decide to kill his only son.

"You have called Sarah?" Ziva questioned, motioning toward the phone on the counter.

"Nope." Tony responded.

"Why not? You were Tim's best friend...she will want to hear from you."

Tony bit his lower lip and snorted, "Stay out of my business Ziva."

"If you do not want to talk to Sarah I understand, but will you at least talk to me?"

"Nope."

Ziva pointed to the glass that Tony held to his lips, "So that is your answer? That is how you choose to deal with this?"

Tony drained the last of the whiskey from his glass and picked the bottle up from counter. He pulled fifty dollars from his wallet and tossed it on the counter next to his phone. "How about you go to hell?" He turned on his heel and walked away with the bottle in hand. Ziva watched as he staggered toward the door and disappeared into the night. Her heart felt heavy in her chest. Tony blamed himself for what had happened. She knew all too well how that kind of guilt can tear a person apart. She had already lost one friend...she couldn't lose Tony too.


	4. Chapter 4

Gibbs sat down in his basement sanding a piece of wood. He wasn't even sure what the wood was for, he just felt the overwhelming need to do something. Tim leaned against his work table with his arms crossed watching his every move with an almost bored curiosity. Gibbs gritted his teeth and turned so that Tim was no longer in his peripheral vision, but he could still feel him there...watching. He wasn't real, Gibbs knew that, but it didn't make seeing him any less hard.

"So is this really how you are going to spend your night? It doesn't seem very productive." Tim said.

Gibbs flinched when he looked up to see the apparition standing directly in front of him again. Tim cocked his head to the side and lifted his eyebrows in question. Gibbs grunted and went back to sanding the small piece of wood that he held in his hands. Tim could talk all he wanted to, but Gibbs wasn't crazy enough to actually answer him back...at least not yet.

Tim clasped his hands behind his back and began walking around the cramped basement. He leaned over an inspected the jars of screws that were lined up on a shelf and wrinkled his nose, "Come on Gibbs, are you really going to let Vance tell you that you can't work my case? Since when did you ever listen to what he had to say?"

Gibbs spun around in his chair and grabbed a bottle of brandy from the shelf. He didn't even bother with a glass as he turned the bottle up and greedily gulped the burning, amber liquid. If it would make Tim disappear he would drink the whole damn bottle. He downed half a bottle before he stopped. He wiped the bourbon off his chin and glared heatedly at Tim. When the apparition didn't disappear Gibbs snorted his frustration.

Tim stared at him for a long while before he finally spoke again, "If I were Tony, or Ziva, you would be out there tearing DC apart searching for answers."

Gibbs shook his head, "No, you are wrong." So maybe he was crazy enough to talk back.

Tim narrowed his eyes, "Am I?"

"It's out of my hands. I'm not even allowed back in the building" Gibbs explained.

"That never stopped you before. You just don't care, because I am your worthless, weak, computer geek. You never gave too damns about me while I was living, so why should I be surprised that you don't care now that I am dead?"

"I care. I do," Gibbs said.

"I was the team's punching bag!" Tim screamed. "You are glad I am gone. It's one less thing for you to worry about."

"No," Gibbs shouted as he hurled the bottle of bourbon at Tim. It passed right through him and shattered against the wall behind him.

"Am I interrupting something?" Vance asked from the top of the staircase.

Gibbs looked around the basement and was relieved to find no sign of Tim. He scrubbed his hand down his face and sighed, "No. Everything is...well it is what it is. What do you want?"

Vance walked down the stairs and side stepped the broken glass, "I need to talk to you about McGee."

Gibbs grabbed a dustpan and began to sweep the shards of glass up, "I thought we were pulled off of the case Leon. What is there to talk about?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about it, but yet here I am."

"So what are you not supposed to be talking about?" Gibbs asked as he dumped the glass into a trashcan. When he turned around to face Vance his stomach soured at the sight of Tim standing right next to him.

Vance narrowed his eyes at Gibbs, "Are you sure you are okay? You look like you have seen a ghost."

"What did you come here for Leon?" Gibbs questioned as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"There was an accident with the transport of the bodies," Vance began. "The coroners van was run off a bridge and it exploded upon impact. No survivors and no salvageable remains for autopsy."

"That's awfully convenient," Tim said. "What about the evidence they took from the lab?"

Gibbs glared at McGee, but asked the question anyway, "What about the evidence from the lab?"

Vance looked to where Gibbs kept staring, but he didn't see anything there. "It was destroyed in the initial explosion. What are you looking at?"

Tim smiled, "You care to explain that one to him?"

"Nothing," Gibbs said.

Vance cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He wasn't completely sure, but he was beginning to think that his Lead Agent was in the process of having a nervous breakdown. Gibbs was definitely seeing something that he could not.

"I asked to see the evidence that had been uncovered on Agent McGee and his father," Vance said. "I needed to see proof that my agent was doing the things that they said he was."

"Did SECNAV show you?"

"She did," Vance nodded. "It's a lot of evidence that spans back Tim's entire career. To most people it would be pretty damning."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes, "What do you mean to most?"

"He means he doesn't believe it!" Tim shouted. "Anyone with a brain would know that I'm no traitor. They are just trying to sully a good man's name."

"September 23, 2014," Vance said. "Do you remember it?"

Gibbs furrowed his brow, "That was Russia. Our helicopter was shot down."

"Well according to the evidence I was presented, McGee was opening an offshore account in the Caymans."

"That's not possible," Gibbs confirmed. "We had zero cell reception, much less a wi-fi connection. Someone is falsifying evidence."

"Told you," Tim said pointing to himself. "Inn-o-cent."

"Did you tell SECNAV any of this?" Gibbs asked.

"Not a word," Vance replied. "I figure if she is going to give us cherry picked information we can return her the same courtesy."

Tim propped his elbow up on Vance's shoulder and waited for a response. It was the first time that Gibbs noticed that his apparition was bleeding. Blood ran down the front of his shirt and started spreading down the front of his pants, stopping about halfway down his thigh. Tim noticed Gibbs staring and looked down at his soiled clothes. He frowned at the crimson stain, "Oh man," he groaned, "I really liked this shirt."

"Why am I seeing this?" Gibbs muttered to himself. "Why are you bleeding?"

Tim's eyes slid over to Vance who was staring at Gibbs with a look of great concern, "Careful Gibbs," Tim warned. "Your crazy is starting to show."

"No," Gibbs said, taking a step closer to Tim. "I'm seeing this for a reason. There is always a reason. You are trying to tell me something."

"I think I need to call Dr. Mallard," Vance said as he took a cautious step away from Gibbs. He knew that Gibbs was under a lot of emotional strain at the moment, but the man was not only seeing something that wasn't there, but he was now talking to it. He pulled his phone out and dialed the Doctor's number.

Tim watched as Vance continuously cast worried glances in Gibbs direction as he muttered into the phone. "You do realize that Vance is telling Ducky that you have lost all your marbles right?"

"I don't care," Gibbs said. "Why am I seeing you? What are you trying to tell me?" He pointed to the blood on the front of Gibbs clothes.

"What is your gut telling you?" Tim asked.

"You were stabbed...you should have bled out. There isn't enough blood though. You're heart stopped beating before you could bleed to death."

"So..." Tim motioned with his hand for Gibbs to continue his train of though.

"So if you didn't die from the stab wound, what killed you?"

"That is the million dollar question," Tim said with a smile. "So let's recap this shall we? SECNAV ordered that the team be taken off the case because I am a supposed traitor, but Vance did a little grunt work and determined that the evidence is fabricated- at least some of it is. Also, I am in cahoots with my father, who is a decorated admiral, but conveniently he too is a traitor. Our bodies are taken away by Walter the jackass coroner...someone who was also sent by SECNAV. This all takes place before Ducky could even get the preliminary finished. Walter also absconds with all of the evidence that is tied to the case. Magically, as soon as the transport van leaves NCIS is completely destroyed and all evidence of this case is obliterated from the face of the earth. And last, but not least, the bloodstains on my clothes. They don't match up with my cause of death. I should have bled out, but I didn't. Put all of that together and what does it tell you?"

Everything suddenly became so clear to Gibbs at that very moment and his blood began to boil. They were all being lied to. SECNAV knew far more than she was admitting and there was a very strong possibility that she was directly involved in Tim's death. That is why she was so quick to get his team off the case, because she knew they would stop at nothing to find out what really happened. "That tells me that things are about to get real ugly, real fast."


	5. Chapter 5

Hello All,

So I hope that you are enjoying the story so far. As you can see, Tim's death has fractured the team, but don't give up hope yet, because I have plenty of surprises in store. Right now I am focusing on the team dealing with the death of their beloved teammate, but questions will be answered soon...pinky promise ;) I have really wanted to write this chapter for a while, (because I absolutely adore Jimmy!) so I hope you enjoy.

Jimmy sat quietly at his desk in the dark autopsy room. Vance had ordered everyone to go home, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. His bloodshot eyes burned and he took his glasses off and tossed them on top of his desk. 'Some man you are,' he thought bitterly. 'You are sitting in a dark room crying like a little girl. That's just what a man does.' He half laughed/half sobbed at the thought. He never really thought of himself as a manly man, but he had never thought of himself as a coward either. As the memories at Tim's death flash through his brain like a slideshow he can't stop the tears from falling once again. He just sat there and watched John McGee murder his own son. He could have stopped him...or at least tried to.

His phone rang, pulling his from his thoughts. He looked down at the caller ID and saw that Breena was calling him...again. It was the sixth time in the last hour and it was the sixth time he sent her call to voicemail. He couldn't talk to her. He couldn't talk to anyone. Before he could even return the phone to his pocket it rang again. "Damn it," he cursed as he hurled the phone across the room. It slammed against the wall and fell to the floor in pieces.

"Are you alright Jimmy?" Ziva asked from the doorway of autopsy.

Jimmy wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffled, "Do I look alright to you?"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Jimmy snorted a laugh, "Not really." He got to his feet and grabbed his bag from the hook on the wall and slipped it over his shoulder.

"You are going home now?" Ziva questioned.

"I need some air," Jimmy said as he breezed past her and headed toward the elevator that led to the parking garage. Ziva followed him into the elevator and he said nothing as he pressed the button and the doors slid shut. The ride down to the parking garage seemed to take forever. Jimmy didn't want company...he didn't want to talk...he just wanted to be left alone.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors rumbled open. As Jimmy stepped out into the cool air of the parking garage he was met by a very drunk, very angry Tony DiNozzo.

"Well there you are!" Tony said loudly. "I was just coming to see you."

"Tony," Ziva said, shocked by her partner's drunken state. "How did you get here? Did you drive?"

Tony scoffed at her, "I took a cab Ziva." He turned his attention to Jimmy, who was slipping past him and heading for his car, "Hey Palmer," he called after him. "Wait up a sec, I want to talk to you."

Jimmy kept his head down and continued walking to his car. He just needed a little time to clear his head. He needed to get away from NCIS and everyone within it.

"Tony leave him alone," Ziva said when Tony started to follow Jimmy.

Tony ignored her, "Palmer! Come back here!"

Jimmy could feel the tears burning at his eye as he neared the safety of his car. It was only a few feet away and he was so close to his much needed reprieve. If only Tony hadn't said what he said next.

"I said get back here you coward!"

Jimmy came to such a sudden stop that Tony nearly ran into the back of him. Jimmy turned around slowly and stared at Tony with such hatred it send a shiver down Ziva's spine.

"What did you just call me?" Jimmy asked.

Tony smirked, "I just want to talk Palmer. What are you so afraid of?"

Jimmy's right eye twitched slightly as he spoke, "I'm not afraid of you." He meant it too. Tony always intimidated him, but not this...this time he was just pissing him off.

"Oh," Tony laughed. "The Gremlin finally grew a pair."

"Tony back off," Ziva ordered.

"No," Jimmy responded. "I want to hear what he has to say."

Tony licked his lips and snarled before speaking, "You," Tony jabbed his finger into Jimmy's chest with each word he spoke, "Are a sniveling little coward."

"Tony please," Ziva begged.

Tony narrowed his eyes at Jimmy, "You could have stopped him. You could have helped my friend, but no...you didn't. You just sat there and you watched. You are a coward Palmer. A useless, socially awkward, coward."

Ziva didn't know what shocked her more, the hateful words that Tony had said, or the guttural scream that Palmer released as he threw a right hook into Tony's nose. Tony stumbled back from the blow, but before he could recover Jimmy put his head down and charged straight for him and both men went toppling to the concrete of the garage. Tony didn't even have a chance to get his hands up to defend himself before Jimmy was on top of him delivering blow after vicious blow to his face.

He was like a man possessed and it took Ziva three separate tries to get Jimmy off of Tony. Jimmy's whole body shook violently as he stared down at a now unconscious DiNozzo. Tears flowed freely from his eyes, but not from regret...he was angry...so very angry. Every nerve in his body was on edge and he felt as if he were going to self-implode at any moment. He glanced down at Tony one last time before he turned on his heel and headed toward his car. He didn't know where he was going to go, but he knew that he couldn't stay there.


End file.
